


I'm still comparing your past to my future

by ohmcgee



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Immortality, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 13:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6472654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lazarus pit made Jason immortal. Tim's not dealing with that very well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm still comparing your past to my future

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Tim/Jason I could sigh into your hide and say, "I hope I'm here forever."
> 
> eta: [ARTS!!!! ](http://roadnorth92.tumblr.com/post/147230687160/ive-just-read-ohmcgeethe-amazing-authors)

Tim stares at the date on the calendar.

“Morning, birthday boy,” Jason calls from the stove, flipping pancakes. “I was going to bring you breakfast in bed but of course your stubborn ass can’t sleep in.”

“I told you you didn’t have to do anything,” Tim snaps sharply and yanks the calendar of the wall, tossing it in the trash on his way out of the room.

“Tim,” Jason sighs, turning the stove off. “Wait.”

“I’m going for a run,” Tim says and pulls on his shoes. “Enjoy your goddamn pancakes.”

The door slams behind him.

 

***

Jason’s sharpening knives when he comes back from his run. Tim feels better, his blood pumping, muscles aching like they should, sweat running down his back. He feels alive.

He starts stripping right in front of Jason, right in the middle of the living room with the blinds open for anyone who walks or drives by to see.

“Fuck me,” he says, licking his lips, and Jason sets the whetstone down on the coffee table along with the bowie knife in his hand.

He fucks Tim up against the wall with Tim’s legs wrapped his waist, then when his arms get too tired holding him up he bends him over the kitchen table, fucks him so hard the plate of cold pancakes falls and smashes to pieces on the tile. Then he takes him to their bed and fucks him slow, kisses him when he comes and tastes the salty tears on Tim’s face.

“Hey,” he says softly, wiping the tears away with his thumb. “Hey, come on. Don’t.”

“Don’t _what_?” Tim snaps and turns away from him, swinging his legs off the bed to get dressed. “Don’t be upset that you never age? Don’t make you stay with me while I get old and senile? Don’t fucking _die_?”

Jason just looks at him like he doesn’t even _know_ him, says, “I’m going out,” and snatches the keys off the dresser. “Happy fucking birthday.”

 

***

He comes home some time after one, stumbling through the house drunk, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes and women who’d tried to throw themselves at him. At least Roy had been kind enough to take them off his hand. He stops when he reaches the living room and sees Tim, waiting for him on the couch in the dark.

“It’s not my _fault_ ,” Jason says, because he’s still angry, so angry at so many things. “I didn’t ask for --”

“I know,” Tim says softly and gets up, walks over to Jason and wraps his arms around him. He sighs against his shoulder. “I just wish --”

“I know,” Jason says wearily, reaching out to stroke Tim’s hair. “I know.”


End file.
